Sugar Skulls
by GumWrappers
Summary: Ah, I love vague titles. But it makes sense. Lizzie, sugar. Undertaker, skulls. Yeah. Okay. Enjoy this little gem. RATED M FOR EXCESSIVE FUCKING AND INAPPROPRIATE USE OF THE HUMAN SKELETON.


**Author's note: Um. Yeah, a few things you should know before you read this. First. I couldn't do this with Lizzie being 12. So my brain made her 19. Also. This was the prompt I had to work with: "UNDERTAKER AND LIZZIE. THEY HAVE TO DO IT, AND THERE BETTER BE SOME FUCKING GRAPHIC SCREAMING AND TOOLS MUST BE USED."**

**But anyway. This might be the most beautiful thing I've ever done. Enjoy.**

"Undertaker, are you here?" Lizzie knocked on the door to the funeral parlor and opened it. She walked in and looked around. She found the Undertaker asleep in his favorite coffin. She leaned forwards and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. He groaned and brushed his bangs out of his eyes.

"Evenin', lady Elizabeth," he mumbled sleepily. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, I think you know," she said with a smirk. Lizzie hiked up her skirts and hopped into the coffin. She straddled the reaper and giggled.

"Do I? I'm not sure I do. Enlighten me, if you please, lady Elizabeth." Undertaker sat up, letting his hair fall back into his face. He reached up and tugged Lizzie's curls free from their ribbons. "I must say, my lady. You look lovely with your hair down."

"Don't try to be a gentleman. It doesn't suit you. I like you better when you're wild." Lizzie leaned forward and brushed Undertaker's bangs aside again. She felt his body change underneath her as he reached for the buttons on her dress. (Eheheheh.) (Fuck what does Undertaker wear. For all intensive purposes his cloak is off and he's just in a plain buttondown and nice pants. Okay? Okey.) Lizzie giggled again. Undertaker could hear the change in her voice. From sweet and high-pitched to deeper in her throat, (lololol) with more sinister intentions. He found it incredibly alluring. He allowed a low chuckle to escape as a growl.

"Wild, eh? I can do that." Undertaker continued to unbutton Lizzie's dress. She sighed impatiently.

"You idiot. Let me show you wild." Lizzie gripped either side of the reaper's shirt collar and yanked it open. Buttons flew everywhere, and Undertaker seemed startled for a moment. His mouth slowly curved into a grin. He chuckled again.

"Whatever you say, m'lady." He mirrored Lizzie's action with her dress, and then her corset. (NYAGH OKAY THAT'S ENOUGH OF THAT.) Lizzie smiled.

"That's more like it," she thought. Damn he looked good with his shirt off. (If you disagree then you are a liar. Those battle scars can't JUST be on his face. And c'mon. Reaper.) She leaned in to kiss him, pressing her chest against his. He growled as he fumbled with her petticoats. Lizzie helped him and then moved her hands to the buttons on his trousers. (By adding the word trousers I have made this smut 500% classier.) Her slender fingers made quick work of the buttons (why am I suddenly British) as Undertaker struggled with her last petticoat. (Cut him some slack he doesn't do this often. Men don't wear petticoats. Hehe.)

"Don't be stupid, just rip it." Lizzie said through her teeth. Undertaker was more than happy to oblige. The sound of shredding fabric was quickly followed by two synchronized moans. (Fuck you I can't do this unless I've got Lovegame on repeat. Fuck you.) And yeah. It was noisy as fuck and a little bit rough and all that. About ten minutes in, Undertaker paused and exhaled sharply. It took Lizzie a minute. She narrowed her eyes.

"Really?" she said breathlessly. (BAHAHAHAHAHA LIZZIE BABY I'M SORRY. BUT IF ANY OF THE GORGEOUS GAY MEN IN BB HAVE NO ENDURANCE, IT'S GONNA BE UNDERTAKER.) Undertaker's face reddened.

"Sorry, my lady. I'm not quite used to this. Here, I've got an idea." His devilish smile returned as he reached behind his back. From under his pillow (because yes he keeps a pillow in his coffin what of it) he pulled out a humerus. (Geddit. Cuz. He's. Yeah. I'M NOT GONNA LET HIM USE A SCALPEL, JESUS.) He blew his bangs out of his face, and eyed the arm bone, smirking. He turned his eyes to Lizzie. "You know," he said under his breath. "I can. Erm. End it with this, if you like." Lizzie was strangely turned on by this idea.

"D-do what you like." she sputtered. So then he fucked her with an arm bone. And she screamed a lot. Because OW. Sorry, Lizzie. The end.


End file.
